Dr. Seigel

Pain equals strength.  Moreso, remaining calm and cool through pain equals strenth.  This would have been our family mission statement when I was growing up, if we had one.  Actually, one of my favorite quotes to this day, I heard from my husband Mike, a former Marine, "Pain is weakness leaving the body."  One of my mother's favorite things to tell me when I'm dealing with a difficult issue, "If it doesn't kill you it will make you stronger."  Okay, so you get the picture--no whining, complaining, or showing weakness was allowed at any time during my life.

Somehow, Dad found a denstist that shared his belief (I believe he was a friend of Dad's parents), Dr. Seigel.  Dr. Seigel was the only doctor of any kind I ever remember going to.  I know I received all the required shots in infancy, but beyond that, never.  Only Dr. Seigel.  He was a nice enough guy but a bit on the sadistic side.  I think all four of us (Dory, Gary, Dave and I) became anxiety ridden each time we'd pile into the car for the long ride to Albany, to a quaint little office that looked like a home that should have a white picket fence around it.  It was Dr. Seigel's dental office. 

It was always good to go first so you didn't have to hear the drill which caused more nervous anticipation than report card day.  The visits started normal enough--x-rays (that dumb cardboard thing that always cut into the back of my jaw and cheeks and made me gag a little).  Then on to the cleaning while they waited for the x-rays.  The tasteless sand mixed with clay on the rotating brush (okay, the brush was cool).  Then spit into the swirly sink thing--that was pretty cool too.  Then...

Then he'd take that damned suction tube and put it under my tongue and leave.  Oh the anxiety.  The smell of drilled enamel was still in the air from whoever was in there before me and it made my stomach churn.  By the time he comes back in, that dumb suction tube thing has drained all the liquid from my body and is resorting to sucking the tender flesh under my tongue.

The nurse enters with a pitiful look on her face (the nurse always felt bad for us).  Dr. Seigel turns on the drill--the sound reminds me that there is still liquid in my body and it would really like to come out at that very moment, but, of course I don't say this because there still that sucker thing in my mouth and Dr. Seigel has his ready for business look on his face and really, I just want to get it over with.  I tell myself I won't raise my hand this time.

The hand raising is what the nurse tells me to do if it hurts.  Did you notice that so far there has been no mention of novacaine?  Naw, novacaine is for sissies--we're tough.  More weakness is getting ready to leave the body.  So the hand raising.  I'd raise my hand when I absolutely could take the pain of the drill hitting the nerve no longer, and guess what Dr. Seigel would do?  He'd slow his drill speed down a notch.  Yippeeee! Now the pain is still there and this process will only take a little longer.  So, like I said, I'd tell myself that I will not raise my hand.  But I do.  And I'm immediately sorry for it. 

Finally, the drilling is done, and I get to feel the filling being mashed into the newly formed crater with the still exposed nerve--this feels like someone pushing your tooth either out of your cheekbone or down through the bottom of your jaw (depending if it's an upper or lower tooth), and sounds like someone squeaking a styrofoam cooler against itself just a bit at a time.  Did I mention the smell?  And I think I still have some of the sand-filled clay floating around in my mouth. 

When I was all finished (I usually had at least 2 fillings), Dad would come in with his puffed up pride at how tough his little girl was especially after the nurse told him how tightly I squeezed her hand but never made a sound.  And whew, I was finished for another 6 months or year with promises to myself to brush my teeth more often.

I still have all of the fillings Dr. Seigel gave me--their silver color has turned to dark gray if not black--except for the one that fell out about 10 years ago (I chose to have that tooth pulled rather than refilled much to the chagrin of the dentist I went to).  I've made several appointments with dentists in my adult life and will make it through a cleaning.  I might even come back for my appointment to have cavities filled, but I always end up leaving the waiting room as soon as I hear the drill or smell the burnt enamel. 

I guess that's just a rock I'm still trying to bypass.  I'd love to hear Dory, Gary and Dave's take on Dr. Seigel, and if they go regularly to a dentist now or am I the only baby.  I can take a good deal of physical pain, but wow, that really hurt.  A lot. 

Jen ;-)